


the night expects nothing from us

by v0idfishing



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, Michael Afton's Daddy Issues, Michael afton is a little emo bitch, Nightmares, Short One Shot, Stargazing, i wrote this because i was sad at 1 am, it's probably like 1996?, things are okay but like people are still dead, william afton has been IMPRISONED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v0idfishing/pseuds/v0idfishing
Summary: Michael has been staying with the Emily household for months after his father's arrest. He gets some comfort from Charlie after being unable to sleep.
Relationships: Michael Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	the night expects nothing from us

It's...dark. He was on his hands and knees, the floor below him cold and hard. Where..was he? With shaking legs, he stood and held his arms out. They immediately connected to walls. A hallway, huh? The darkness was colliding in on him, sucking his breath away. He couldn't see a thing, and it was all deathly silent. That was, until something pierced it, loud and clear.

"Michael!"

Michael startled, turning his head rapidly for the sound of the voice. Before he could try and remember why he recognized it, they shouted again.

"Michael! Please! Please help me!"

_Elizabeth. Elizabeth, of course. She was shouting from down the hall…_

"Help me, please!" She cried out again,her voice filled with tears.

Michael clenched his eyes shut. _This wasn't real. This wasn't real. It couldn't be._

"Michael!" His sister's voice only grew louder, more terrified. And he couldn't take it anymore.

"Lizzie!" He shouted back, scrambling to get his body moving. He ran forward, despite being unable to see. "Lizzie, I'm coming!"

Elizabeth's cries for help only got louder as Michael ran. She only seemed to get farther away the longer he ran, and her shouting was starting to hurt his head. Just as he was starting to run out of breath, something clicked on in front of him. Light, just a little bit, illuminated the hallway. All it revealed was the end of the hallway. Michael was barely able to stop himself before running into it. Elizabeth was nowhere in sight, but her shouting got louder still. Michael felt his knees buckle below him, and he slumped to the floor with an unceremonious thump. 

Elizabeth let out a final, blood curdling scream that seemed to contain not only her voice, but many others in haunting unison. Michael couldn't tear his eyes from the wall ahead of him as they screamed, and thick red liquid poured from the crevices in the wall. It flowed far too fast, covering Michael's legs and hands and staining the entire floor. He let out a weak cry, for his sister, for himself, anyone. All that he got in response was laughter, deep and sickening, echoing in his head.

He shot upright. There was no hallway, no blood, no laughter, and no Elizabeth. Just him and his heavy breathing.

"Shit!" Michael hissed, clenching his eyes shut for a moment. He had been having weird dreams more often than usual lately. After they carted his father away. It had been months of those dreams..months of living with people he didn't deserve kindness from. He didn't deserve to step foot in the Emily household, much less live on their couch for three months. But Henry Emily was as stubborn as he was kind, so he couldn't have refused. Where else would he be living, anyway?

Michael huffed, throwing the thick comforter off the couch. He was standing up just a moment later, ignoring the rush that came to his head from getting up so fast. What time was it, anyway..? He squinted to make out the time on the clock on the side table. It was just past 1 AM.

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. He needed to get out. He needed some air. Needed out of this _fucking_ house. He grabbed his jacket from the floor and a flashlight, then he was out. Just a little walk. That was all he needed. He took a deep breath as soon as he was out the door. There was a slight chill in the air, but it wasn't enough to feel truly cold. Something about being out all alone in the dark was comforting. The nighttime expected nothing from him, revealed nothing to him. All he had to do was breathe.

He stepped out to the sidewalk, passing his flashlight over the vacant street, then back to the old house. It still felt so strange and unfamiliar, despite how often he'd seen it. That house held secrets he would never know, and that he, quite frankly, didn't want to know. Still, he didn't like feeling like a total stranger in the place he was staying.

"Michael?" His thoughts were interrupted by a voice in front of him.

Michael jumped, nearly dropping the flashlight. He managed to refocus, though, and pointed the light downward to the source of the voice.

"Hey, woah," Charlie chuckled, holding her hands up to shield her eyes from the light. "It's just me. Why are you out here?"

Michael shut the light off, sighing softly. "Bad dream." He answered simply. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Charlie shook her head and glanced back at the house. "I've been up for a bit, actually...just...needed to do some thinking."

"You too, huh?" Michael let himself chuckle. 

"You wanna join?" She brushed some hair from her face. "I can show you my secret midnight thinking spot." She gave a playful raise of her eyebrow.

"It's one, not midnight," He attempted a snarky reply, but it came out dry.

Charlie rolled her eyes, standing up a bit straighter. "Come on."

Michael hesitated just a second before following her into the house.

The two of them crept quickly back inside, careful around the creaky floorboards. Michael let Charlie silently lead him to her room, leaving his flashlight downstairs.

There was a slight hesitation when he entered her room. It almost felt..too personal. Still. There was still so much disconnect between them. Was that normal? For someone you've known for that long?

Charlie was already opening up her window when Michael finally stepped into her room. His eyes gazed around, landing on the stationary animatronic on one end of the room. Stanley, right? That's what Charlie said his name was? Henry made him just for her...

"You comin'?" Charlie turned to look at him, already halfway out the window.

"..Yeah, sorry," He nodded, moving closer to follow after her. 

She pulled herself out of the window and carefully positioned herself on the roof, leaving more than enough room for Michael to sit beside her. He clambered on much less gracefully, having to grab the side of the window to avoid slipping.

Charlie let out a short breath and stared upward into the night sky. She didn't say a word. Michael followed suit, gazing up at the stars. They seemed brighter than he'd ever seen them before, though he supposed he never took much time to stargaze.

"Dreams," Michael barely picked up on what Charlie said.

"Huh?" He snapped back to reality, looking over at her.

"You said you had a bad dream," She clarified. "Have...you been getting those often?"

Michael furrowed his brow, not expecting the question. "Uh.." He paused. "..If I'm being honest? Kind of. But it's not...unusual for me. I guess."

Charlie frowned softly. "Yikes. Are you..feeling better than you did when...you know..at least?"

Michael snorted. "Better? Are you kidding?" He shook his head, then let it drop a bit. "I've never felt more relieved than when they locked that bastard up. Like..I've had this huge weight on my neck for most of my life, and it's..almost all gone." He sighed heavily, falling silent as he looked to the side. "It's just..it's still not gone, you know? So much happened, and I..can't help but feel at least a little responsible."

"That's more than fair," Charlie closed her eyes for a moment. "..But..you know none of it is your fault, right?"

"..Yeah," As much as he wanted to refute, he was too drained to argue.

Silence fell on the two once again, and Michael welcomed it. Charlie was...weird. She had every right to be angry and despondent and detached from the world, but..she wasn't. Sure, she had moments where she was clearly unhappy with the life she was given, but for the most part, she was positive. She wanted to solve the mysteries of her past instead of slinking away from them. She tried her best to be kind and understanding of..almost everyone. He guessed she got that from her father..

"Hey, Charlie?" Michael found himself speaking before he could even think about it.

"Hm?" Charlie looked at him again. 

"Uh.." He clicked his tongue, not daring to take his eyes off the night sky. "..What..was it like? Growing up with your father? Here?"

"Well.." Charlie thought on it for a moment. "Things were pretty different before my mom left, I guess. It was..normal? I guess? Though we spent a lot more time in a restaurant than most kids probably do. Dad's life was his work, but...he cared about us more than anything. He put so much time into working because he wanted to make kids happy..to make us happy." She let out a sigh, and Michael couldn't tell if it was one of contentment or sadness. "..Things were weird after Mom left and we moved here. It was the hardest for the first few months, but...dad's priority was still his child. No matter how down he was, he wanted me to have a good life." Michael was about to respond, but she continued. "I didn't want him to do that." 

Michael frowned. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"To care for me over himself," Charlie explained, clenching her hands together. "It wasn't fair of him. Sometimes, when I was little, I'd just start crying because I could tell he wasn't doing well. I knew he had to take care of himself too, but I didn't know how to communicate it.."

"Oh.." Michael nodded. He kept his tongue for the time being, unsure what to say to comfort her.

"But I guess I can't complain, huh?" She laughed weakly. "He's a good dad. Better than a lot of 'em, and he raised me almost entirely by himself.."

Michael felt a brief pang of anger rise in him. _Of course you can't complain._ He quickly shook off the thought. It wasn't her fault his father was shitty. He was the one who asked about Henry in the first place. He wanted to know what it was like.

"You still think about him a lot, huh?" Charlie asked, as if she could read his thoughts. "I don't mean to bring it up, but.."

"It's...fine," Michael shook his head. "I do. All the time. Even before he got caught. When I was a kid, I just...hated him. I had no real reason to, I didn't _know._ But every time he spoke, did anything, talked to anyone...I _hated_ him. At the time I just thought he expected too much of me..blamed me for everything that went wrong. But...maybe I was just an intuitive kid." He swallowed hard. "I didn't understand why a woman like my mother could ever love a man like him." 

Charlie just nodded. "It's..scary to think about that. How for so long, it was all right under our noses. If I'm being honest, I..don't remember much about… him. About William, before anything happened. Just brief flashes of him talking to my dad, coming over to our house on occasion. But anything else..is just gone."

Michael's stomach churned when Charlie said that name. Referring to him as his father was awful, but having to hear his name was even worse. "And you're lucky to have forgotten." He sighed. "I was a rotten kid, you know? The problem child of the Afton family. Everyone in that house looked at me like I was a stranger. Well...everyone except for my mother, I suppose. She was much more understanding than he was. She was someone that was actually worth listening to. She was worth my respect, even as the little shit I was."

Charlie inhaled deeply through her nose, eyes glued to the stars. She stayed silent for a few seconds. "...I'm sorry. About your mother. About..everyone."

He quickly shook his head in response. "It isn't your fault. None of it is. These things...just happen."

"But they shouldn't," Charlie's tone turned deathly serious, and she turned her upper body to look straight at him. "None of this should have happened, and you have every right to be upset about it. I've seen how you look when you're around the house. Michael," She let out an exasperated, breathy chuckle. "You can trust us. You can talk to us. You aren't the only one who lost something from all this."

Michael barely noticed Charlie's hand resting on top of his. He still couldn't look at her. She was right, he knew it. It was stupid of him to act so selfishly. So many people lost so much because of what happened. Charlie and her father included. It was stupid of him to act like he was alone.

“...Does he trust me?” He spoke up after a long silence.

Charlie frowned. “Who?”

“Your father,” Michael closed his eyes. “Does he trust me? I don’t like the way he looks at me sometimes. I don’t blame him, but I..I can never tell what he’s thinking.”

Charlie let out a sigh, slowly intertwining her fingers with his. He didn’t refuse. “...Honestly? I don’t know. He’s letting you live with us, so that says something, but..those kinds of wounds don’t go away, you know? I can tell he wants to trust you. He wants to separate you from him. It’ll just..take some time.”

“Frankly?” He finally looked at her. “I’m having a hard time with that too.” He barely suppressed a wince as Charlie made eye contact. “I still… _see_ him. In myself..in how I look, and how I talk..and it scares me.”

“Michael,” Charlie grabbed his hands with both of hers and kept steady eye contact. “You are _nothing_ like William, and you never will be. You’ve proven that already.” Despite her strong voice, he could feel her hands shaking in his. 

Michael felt his stomach drop. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but...he had never heard that aloud before. All he’d been up to that point was William Afton’s son, the problem child, the disappointment of the Afton family, yet somehow the only member who remained. “..I…” Something in his voice changed completely. “..Thank you.”

Nervously, Michael moved a little closer and moved his free hand to grasp hers. They were clutching gently to each other now, staring into each other’s eyes. They stayed there a few moments, only listening to their own breath.

Then, Charlie broke off into laughter.

“Wh-” Michael stammered, snapping back into reality. “What?”

“You’re such a dork!” Charlie barely got out between giggles, shoving him playfully.

Michael felt blood rush to his face, and he shrunk away slightly. “What? Why?”

“You were looking at me all awestruck,” She couldn’t suppress her grin.

Michael looked away bashfully, crossing his arms. “No I wasn’t.”

Charlie let out another burst of laughter, pressing a hand against the roof to keep herself steady. “Totally were!” She took a few deep breaths, finally calming down. She was just as red in the face as Michael was now. “..It’s okay. I didn’t mind. Let’s just...look at the stars for a little longer.” 

She carefully scooted in so she was right beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He startled, not expecting her to get so close. But he relaxed against her touch after a moment. He inhaled deeply, turning his gaze upwards. As he gently wrapped an arm around Charlie, he let himself get lost in the stars. There were whole other worlds out there, maybe entirely different species. All with their own problems and their own families and experiences. Maybe there weren’t, but...how could he know? Looking at the vast expanse of the sky made his problems seem small in comparison. And it felt nice.

“Charlie?” He asked quietly, turning his attention back to her. He frowned when she didn’t respond. She had fallen asleep...that was probably his cue to get back to bed, too.

“Oh boy..” He muttered upon realizing he would have to get her back into bed by himself. He clicked his tongue, glancing at the window behind them.

It took Michael a moment to get his bearings, but he managed to get himself and Charlie through the window with minimal trouble. He only set her down on her bed, not wanting to risk disturbing her any further. He took a deep breath. He felt better. Much better than he had in months. It would still take a while to come to terms with the world he was living in now, but...he was more willing to now. More ready.

Michael cautiously made his way back downstairs, wincing with every creak of the floorboards. With a long sigh, he curled back up on the couch, pulling the blanket around himself. 

He made a promise to himself, right then. He would prove Charlie right. Michael Afton was not going to turn into his father, and he was going to try his best to recover. He wanted a normal life, and maybe, just maybe, he would be able to get it.


End file.
